I caught one of those hang-overs you hear so much about over the weekend. Yeesh. Who knew severe dehydration made for a day of kids watching too much TV and eating whatever they wanted where ever they wanted? My sofa, which has suffered some real indignities over the last five years, now looks alot like a picnic bench in Oaks Park at high season. In my weakened state, I allowed a crack in the dam that is my Eating at the Table policy. A raging torrent of cheddar bunnies and cheerios is headed for town! All joking and over the top metaphors aside, my sofa is verging on too gross. I have some re-establishing of food rules to do.
This weekend wasn't all limp hands on foreheads. Tennessee met a major developmental benchmark. I was in the kitchen, or command center as I have taken to calling it, and Tennessee trotted in with a big announcement. He pulled the ol' "mommommymommommommommymomommomomommymom" thing until I finally put down the raw chicken and the butcher knife and turned around with kid pinching on my mind. Then he put his little hands up next to his head. He gave me his best twenty dollar smile and said "wanna see me tap dance?" Before I answered his fingers got all jazzy and he started flopping and stomping his little feet all over the place. The little wup, wup, wup sound of his slippered feet did not do his moves justice. Babies first physical comedy.
Comments